


Kyrie Elesion

by prettybirdy979



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Catholic Matt Murdock, Gen, Horror, Horror Style Vampires, Religion, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 06:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12315393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettybirdy979/pseuds/prettybirdy979
Summary: It's an old creepy graveyard, late at night and all Matt can hear is two heartbeats. Nothing else is getting through - not even the ever present sound of New York traffic.He should turn back.But too many have died for him tonotinvestigate. Luck might be on his side; the people he's walking up to might be friendly.(They are. But the other people in the graveyardaren'tand they don't have a heartbeat for Matt to track...)





	Kyrie Elesion

**Author's Note:**

> I started this to get an image out of my head; a quick fic I thought. Six hours later it's nearly 4 times the size I thought it would be and I'm just going to publish it and go to bed before it gets any longer.
> 
> Thanks to Zwaluw for all their help in making this happen!
> 
> This is also technically a response to [this prompt](https://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/1296.html?thread=2815248#cmt2815248) but it might not quite fit (and it's been years) so I'm just posting it here. 
> 
> Also I wrote the other fic for the prompt. I might enjoy this idea a lot, okay????
> 
> EDIT: Forgot to say - the title means "Lord have Mercy" and is from the Catholic Mass.

THUMP. THUUUMP. THUMP.

Thumpthumpthump.

Two heartbeats; one young and fast, the other older, slightly offbeat and muffled. Alone in this empty world, the only noise breaking the unnatural silence that covers the unmaintained graveyard. The usual traffic noises vanished the moment Matt passed the gate, whisked away as if by magic.

Matt’s not sure he believes in magic, but each step he takes towards the only other people in the graveyard is measured and slow. His steps echo to him, the only noise beyond the pounding hearts he’s walking towards, but objectively he knows he’s making half the noise he thinks he is. He runs a finger along the rosary beads he slipped into a pocket earlier - as fortitude or prayer he’s not sure. They clink under his fingers, a familiar sound that slows his heart.

By a single beat.

A part of him is _screaming_ at him to leave, in a voice remarkably like Foggy’s but the memory of the dead keep him moving. The scent of their decomposing bodies, turning up in the streets around this old burial ground fills his mind and nose. All of the victims had been drained almost completely of blood, something that’s baffled police even as it screams serial killer.

This graveyard, in the centre of their dumping ground, had called to Matt as something to investigate. And now he’s here, trying to keep his heart from pounding and swallowing down every doubt creeping up this throat as he stalks the only people-

‘Mr Stark, I don’t think we’re alone.’

Matt’s pounding heart skips a beat and his stomach jumps up into his mouth as a young man’s voice breaks the silence.

Then he recognises it, the familiar Queens’ drawl of Spider-Man causing relief to flood him. So much in fact, that he’s almost dizzy with it in a way that makes his knees weak. Anger fills him too, a fiery rage because Spider-Man is most certainly a _child_ and what the _hell_ is he doing so far out of his area?

‘You’re not,’ he says and a bolt of furious pleasure rips through him as Spider-Man jumps.

Literally.

In the next movement he’s behind the other heartbeat, a man who Matt realises is surrounded by _metal._ The scent of paint, of oil and the clink of gears should have given that away ages ago - Matt shouldn’t have needed to get this close to tell. Damn Stark, bringing a child into danger for kicks.

 _You’re spooked_ , Foggy’s voice whispers again. _That makes you vulnerable_.

Matt ignores it. He’s in the habit of ignoring good advice, why break it now?

‘Holy cow, Daredevil! You scared us!’

‘Speak for yourself kid,’ Iron Man - Stark - says, the tightness in his voice barely detectable through the distortion of his suit’s speakers. His heart thumps out the lie though, a scream to Matt in this unnatural silence.

‘What are you doing here?’ Stark continues, lowering his hand. ‘Rumours have it the Devil doesn’t leave Hell.’ He pauses and Matt can practically taste the way Stark’s savouring this. ‘Hell’s Kitchen I mean.’

Shaking his head, Matt moves forward. ‘Border’s three streets away. And a couple of the bodies turned up in my city. Besides,’ he kneels down beside a grave, running a hand along the faded and moss covered gravestone, ‘I’m not going to let people die over a few streets.’

A stick cracks at the other end of the graveyard and Matt’s attention snaps towards it. Behind Stark, he hears the movement of Spider-Man’s head doing the same thing, his racing heart reaching a new extreme of speed at the noise.

Stark on the other hand, must not have heard it. ‘What the hell?’ He raises his hands though, pointing them in the direction that Matt and Spider-Man are looking. Something about the gesture makes a part of Matt ache; the level of trust these two share filling his mouth with a bitter loss.

‘Shhh!’ Matt hisses, Spider-Man’s voice a higher pitched echo.

‘There’s something there?’ Spider-Man adds, but there’s a note of uncertainty in his voice.

It’s the same thing that’s running through Matt. Sure he heard the stick break but there’s nothing else there. No heartbeat, no breathing. Nothing to indicate it was anything more than his imagination.

Except… Spider-Man heard it too.

Then Spider-Man’s heart starts to slow and he breathes out a sigh of relief. ‘Oh it’s just a kid,’ he says, tilting his head. ‘Geez, what is a kid doing out this late?’

Stark snorts at this, but lowers his hands. ‘Yeah kid, what’s a kid doing out here?’

‘Hey kiddo!’ he says, raising his voice. ‘You alright?’

‘Fine,’ comes a voice, silky smooth and like no child Matt’s ever heard.

There’s also the fact this child _doesn’t have a heartbeat_.

Matt raises his fists, his escrima sticks gripped tightly. ‘What are you?’ he whispers.

From the turn of Spider-Man and Stark’s heads, Matt is sure he’s getting their version of weird looks but he can’t bring himself to care. There’s not enough sound in this graveyard to bounce off far away objects, leaving things beyond a few feet murky and unclear in his mental vision. Added to this is the sheer _wrongness_ of this child’s voice; too compelling and smooth to feel anything like natural.

All of which is a drop in the ocean compared to the wrongness of a child with no heartbeat. No _heartbeat_.

Matt’s a little fixated on that. Even the Hand’s foot soldiers hadn’t felt this wrong. Though they’d at least had some presence in Matt’s mind.

This… this… this _thing_ does not.

The child begins to laugh, a haunting and cruel noise that echoes throughout the graveyard. Both hearts beside Matt start to speed up, matching the pounding in his own chest. Spider-Man steps closer to Stark, who positions himself to be a human shield between Spider-Man and this creature.

Some of Matt’s anger at Stark lessens. He might be bringing a child into an unknown danger but at least he’s willing to stand between it and Spider-Man.

‘You’re _clever_ , aren’t you?’ the child says, its mocking words bouncing off the gravestones. ‘So so clever.’

A rush of air, sticks cracking around the graveyard. Then a woman begins to laugh to Matt’s left, her voice just as cruel as the child’s. A man to his right giggles, a grating and awful noise that makes Matt’s shoulders rise as he shivers. Then from behind him, another child laughs, its voice higher than any previous voice and reminding Matt of the creepiest of children’s songs he hears sung in the streets sometimes.

None of the voices - and _bodies_ Matt can sense as sound echoes off them - come with a heartbeat.

Surrounded. By monsters.

The first child steps forward, a single step that thunders through the graveyard. Matt steps back, moving towards Stark and Spider-Man who have moved to be back-to-back. They shift aside without speaking, letting Matt into their formation.

‘These things don’t have heartbeats,’ Matt whispers. ‘I don’t think they’re alive.’

‘They’re _moving_.’ Stark snaps, the robotic speakers failing to rob his voice of any of the disbelief in it. ‘Unless they’re robots-’

‘Not robots,’ Matt says, swallowing down the fear clawing at his throat. Why haven’t these things attacked? Why are they waiting? They have the advantage, their enemy is surrounded but they’re just… standing there. Why?

Spider-Man shifts a little closer, his shoulders tapping against Matt’s. ‘Mr Stark, I think they’re toying with us,’ he whispers and his heart pounds. ‘I feel like I’m a fish in a shark tank.’

‘Ooh, I like that,’ the first child says and takes another step forward. Around the graveyard, the other creatures follow its lead and step forward. ‘Good analogy. I’m going to use that.’

‘You’re okay kid.’ Stark lifts his hands and fires off two shots at the child in front of them; the speed of the shots making Matt’s teeth ache as the noise bounces through his head.

But when the echoes fade, the creature is still there. Still walking forward with small childish giggles on very second step that make Matt’s hair stand on end far more than anything else has.

Spider-Man takes a small step back, his heart pounding in a way that makes Matt achingly aware of how _young_ the hero is. His breaths have little hitching noises in them that betray how frightened he is; each hitch a knife to the heart for Matt.

Spider-Man’s step back forces Matt to step forward and his knee bangs painfully into a gravestone. He swallows down the pain and moves slightly, so he’s not standing right by something that’s going to hurt when he’s inevidently thrown into it.

Wait. Gravestone. Graveyard. With a _church_ , just across the road. This place should be free of the monsters before him tonight. It is a _graveyard_ , of _consecrated_ ground.

‘What are monsters doing on consecrated ground?’ Matt says, and ignores Stark’s groan. And his muttered ‘Superstitious asshole’. Every part of Matt is _screaming_ in outrage at the existence of these monsters, in this place that God has marked for his protection.

If Matt has to face monsters tonight, he has to have faith that God’s protection will see him through. This is not the devil, clawing at his heart and driving him to violence on a path he’s not sure God wants him to walk. These are agents of hell, here to steal the souls of the innocent.

And Matt’s blundered into their path. God willing, this won’t be his last mistake.

The creatures all laugh. ‘Very clever,’ that same child says, its tone still mocking in a way that raises every hair on Matt’s body. It sounds like someone praising a dog for a trick; but not one it intends to reward the dog for.

‘Look around though, little devil,’ the child continues. ‘This place is abandoned. There’s no God here; just us.’ And they all laugh, menacing voices that don’t quite cover the steps forward they all take.

There’s less than ten feet between Matt and the nearest creature - the man creature to his right - and no more than twenty feet separating the two children. The net is closing; they are running out of time.

‘Oh God, it believes you too,’ Stark mutters. Spider-Man just whimpers, trying to settle into a battle position but he slips out every one he falls into. He’s so _scared_ , in a way Matt swore no child in his presence ever would be.

‘Spider-Man if you can, get out of here,’ Matt whispers, his voice as quiet as it can be while still being able to be heard. ‘Stark and I have this, but we’re going to need someone up above.’

‘I can’t,’ Spider-Man whispers back in the same low voice. ‘This fog… I can’t see anything beyond these things to aim at for my shooters.’ He pauses, then adds, ‘Neither can Karen and she’s a _computer_.’

Matt breathes in but no. He can’t sense the fog Spider-Man is seeing; not even a hint of the moisture in the air.

God help them.

‘Then run when I say so,’ he says in a slightly louder voice.

Beside them, Stark tilts his head. ‘He’s right kid. You start running as soon as you ca-’

The laughter of the creatures stop, a rush of air whipping through the graveyard with a roar. Something grabs Matt’s hands, its grip tight in a way that causes his bones to ache, and pulls him away from the comforting closeness of his companions.

Matt cries out. He can’t stop the noise escaping his lips. But he is a _Murdock_ and just because he’s fighting monsters, it doesn’t mean he can’t put up a fight. He swings around, using the monster’s momentum to add to his own and socks it in the jaw with his other hand and escrima stick.

It hurts - like a thousand fiery hells; like he just punched a steel wall - but the thing grunts and releases Matt’s arm. The force also shatters the escrima stick in his attacking hand so he drops the pieces still in his hand.

‘Daredevil!’ Spider-Man cries, then grunts himself as the child behind their little group attacks him. He has more luck in staying still, throwing the creature halfway across the graveyard.

Stark has the woman on him, weighting him down. Matt hears the whine of his repulsors powering up but no sound of them actually firing. Which makes sense. If Stark fires at the wrong angle, with the fact these things are immune to or able to dodge his blasts… no, he’s more likely to hit Matt or Spider-Man.

Then the man is upon him again, hands on Matt’s chest as it pushes Matt back. Matt manages to roll under its attack, but can’t stop himself moving backwards due to the sheer force of the creature’s attack. He loses his grip on his remaining escrima stick and it clatters as it hits a gravestone, too far for Matt to easily reach.

Oh God, he’s fighting something with the strength of ten devils. _Our Father, who art in heaven…_

‘Mr Stark, try this!’ Something flies through the air as Matt tries to roll to his feet. He sniffs but all he can smell is rust. Iron maybe?

Thankfully Stark likes to narrate. ‘An old cross kid? Really?’

‘Try it,’ Matt snaps, fumbling at his pocket for his rosary beads. He ducks under another attack from the creature fighting him, barely getting low enough in time. These things make so little noise and have none of Matt’s usual measures to give themselves away.

He’s half sure this thing is toying with him; giving him hope before it kills him. But where there’s hope… there’s a Murdock too stubborn to die.

But the woman just laughs, even as Stark shoves the cross in her face. She bats it away effortlessly and pulls off one of the panels on the arm of Stark’s armour.

Like it was _paper_. Stark only grunts, but Matt can hear the pain in every breath he’s taking. Clearly that move didn’t just pull at wires and metal.

‘There is no God here,’ the speaking child says, still lingering in its spot ten feet away. ‘No protection for those desperately grasping at straws to save themselves.’

Matt’s clumsy fingers finally grasp his beads, even as the man growls and steps towards him.

‘Leave us be!’ Matt roars, thrusting the small cross on his beads into the man’s face.

This time it _works_. The man hisses and rears back, like Matt put a fist full of fire in his face instead of a small cross. The woman stops laughing, like someone pressed a mute button. Hisses from the two children echo through the graveyard, even as Spider-Man darts to Matt’s side, rusting iron cross in hand.

‘There is no God here,’ the child repeats but where there had been amused mockery in its voice, there is now angered outrage. ‘We rule this land!’

‘God is everywhere,’ Matt says, putting every inch of the faith his father taught him into his voice. God is everywhere, he _has_ to be. Even in this abandoned graveyard, there is a God to protect the innocent.

Not Matt. Matt is not an innocent. But Spider-Man… Yes, God would protect Spider-Man, a child trying desperately to use his powers for good. And for all Matt’s sins, he has a deep, undying faith, God does not want him to die here. Not here at the hands of agents of Hell.

‘Our Father,’ Matt starts, taking the cross from Spider-Man and banishing it in the face of the woman, halting her path forward. ‘Who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name.’

‘Your prayers can’t save you,’ the child screeches, as behind Matt, Stark takes the chance to pick up Spider-Man in a bridal hold that clutches the young boy to his chest.

‘Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven,’ Matt continues, getting as close to Stark as he can. ‘Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses.’

He nods at the sky, hoping Stark gets the hint. Matt can hold these things off, they cannot touch him so long as the symbols of his faith remain in his hands. But Stark and Spider-Man don’t have that protection. They need to leave. _Now_.

Stark, thank God, is not a stupid man. He takes a step back and the roar of his repulsors fill the graveyard. A moment later their noise fades from Matt’s ears as Stark tears out of danger and into the safety of the sky.

‘As we forgive those that trespass against us, and lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil.’ Matt pauses for breath, swinging the old cross around just in time to make the man shoot back with an outraged hiss. ‘For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, forever and ever. Amen.’

The creatures all _screech_ at that, an outraged noise that fills Matt with delight. ‘Hail Mary, full of Grace, the Lord is with thee.’

It’s then the woman grabs Matt’s right hand, the one with the beads in it and squeezes. Instinctively, Matt punches it with his left, still tightly gripping at the cross.

He gets it right in the heart, his cross a brand that bruises his knuckles while it…

It _sizzles_ , like Matt just poured acid on it instead of touching it with a cross. Something - a voice in the back of his head that _has_ to be God’s guidance - urges him to move. He’s driving his cross into the creature’s heart before his mind catches up with his body, holding it there even as it screams and sizzles, the scent of burning flesh filling the air.

Worse than burning flesh even. The smoke of hellfire Matt’s sure, though he’s never smelt it before.

The creature’s grip on his arm slackens, then loosens, as it drops to the ground. It doesn’t move - not even a twitch - as Matt steps over it, towards the other creatures.

Who all _step back_ , in time with Matt’s step forward.

Then the child that speaks hisses. ‘Your faith in your God is misplaced. He will abandon you.’

‘Seems to be doing alright so far,’ Matt replies, his mind already running through the familiar Hail Mary - drawing as much strength from the comforting memories of his father teaching him the prayer and the churches he’s said it in, as he does from the actual words. ‘Hail Mary-’

‘Do you really think your God can protect you from _us_ ?’ the child says even as it backs into a wall with a thump. ‘We are immortal; endless. Your God will not protect you forever. Your faith is _meaningless_.’

‘My faith is my own,’ Matt snaps, and takes another step forward. The man rushes at him with a roar, but it’s moving slower than before and making far more noise as it trips over gravestones. This time, Matt knows where it is going and can get his cross up in time.

Again, he drives the iron cross into the creature’s heart. He feels his mouth pulling into a horrific snarl, showing his teeth in a vicious grin as God burns this creature from his Earth. The sizzling this time sounds like the fires of hell, come to take these monsters back where they belong.

The creature thumps to the ground as its unnatural life is taken from it, the noise echoing around the graveyard. Matt can’t help but snarl in triumph.

Two down, two to go.

The two remaining creatures cry out, an endless noise that makes Matt grit his teeth as he steps towards them. But they are moving towards him too, hissing and growling like the monsters they are.

The whine of Stark’s repulsors make Matt jerk his head towards the sky.

‘Daredevil!’ Stark cries out from above him, dropping something solid and-

And _swishing_. A bottle. Matt drops the old cross, letting his beads slip down his arm, just to catch it. The child creatures are just feet away but Matt’s not stupid.

He _knows_ what this has to be. Ripping off the lid of the bottle is easy and Matt pushes down the instinct to throw it now.

Wait.

Wait.

Wa-

NOW!

Matt throws the water, trusting both in Stark’s need to test everything and in God to provide. His throw is well timed, the arc of the water such that both child creatures get a face full of it.

A face full of _holy water_ , if Matt’s any judge. Their screams are louder than the other other two creatures and set Matt’s teeth on edge. They sound like dying children, screaming their pain for all the world to hear. But even that is not enough to drown out the unnatural silence where their heartbeats should be; nor quite enough to remove Matt’s memory of the smooth, adult voice of the one who spoke.

They are the agents of Hell and Matt has protected his city from their evil.

But their screams are still going to ring in his nightmares.

‘Holy shit,’ Stark says, landing with a soft thump. ‘That should _not_ have worked.’

Matt blinks, lifting the empty bottle and moving his head so it’ll appear like he’s looking at it. ‘It wasn’t holy water?’

‘Oh no, it was. Just… it shouldn’t have _worked_.’ He holds out a hand and Matt gives him the bottle. A moment later, Matt bends down and passes him the old iron cross as well.

His rosary beads stay hanging off his wrist, in a position where he can swing them into his hand easily. Best to be safe.

‘Where’s the kid?’ Matt asks.

‘Church where I got that water from,’ Stark says with a grind of metal that probably means he shrugged. ‘Figured even if the kid can’t copy your trick with the cross, there’s not really a safer place to stick someone you want to hide from weird.’

Matt smiles, something about Stark’s attempt to justify his action warming him. ‘It’s not a trick. I just have faith there’s a God to believe in.’

‘...you’re religious. Of course you are.’ Stark rolls over the woman creature’s body and hisses at the sight of her chest.

This time, Matt smirks. ‘Catholic.’

Stark shakes his head. ‘A Catholic devil. Christ.’

It’s Matt’s turn to shake his head as he taps the two child creatures with his foot, to make sure they are really gone. ‘Something like that.’

Stark laughs, a hollow sound. ‘You want a lift to come see the kid? He wasn’t very impressed when I left him behind.’ He makes a show of checking around the sky. ‘Expect him to follow me any moment now.’

Matt weighs the agony of being too close to Stark’s many noises against the certainty he needs to check on Spider-Man and _leave_. It is this ever growing need to get out of this unholy place that wins out.

‘Sure,’ he says, and lets Stark gather him into a bridal hold.

They take off and leave the bodies of the monsters to rot.

Just like they deserve.


End file.
